by Avery James
Hopefully, the rehearsal dinner would be less of a disaster than the bachelor party. Disaster was the wrong word. Aside from his walk with Charlotte, the whole weekend had been a success. From the unplanned pub crawl they undertook with Callie's bachelorette party to the rest of the weekend they spent once the girls had left to continue their original plans, Logan had enjoyed himself. Jack had spent the rest of the weekend putting on a good face while he brooded over his interaction with Callie's maid of honor. It had been bad enough that Charlotte had caught him glancing at her. He hadn't been able to look away. There was something mesmerizing about her.
As Jack looked around the brewery, he couldn't help but laugh to himself that he would be attending Logan's wedding. He and Logan had been friends since college, and Jack was the only one of the two anyone had ever considered marriage material. Logan had spent most of his twenties drinking, partying and getting in trouble. Jack had been like that in college, but since graduating, he had been the opposite. Yet, here Logan was, eagerly leaping into the arms of the woman he'd share the rest of his life with. And here Jack was, by himself, waiting for someone, anyone to arrive to take his mind off of Charlotte, a woman who he had vowed not to love.
And even if he'd wanted to, how could he, with Maria and little Jack always at the edge of his mind? Jack thought back to telling Charlotte that he would make a terrible father. He hoped he was doing alright by little Jack, but no matter how well he looked after the kid, it wouldn't change Jack's opinion on fatherhood. Quite the opposite.
Since that night in DC, though, that walk, he hadn't been able to get Charlotte out of his head. He didn't know what exactly it was about her that intrigued him, but he couldn't deny her appeal. Maybe it was the way that she didn't seem to care about his celebrity. Or maybe it was the fact that she didn't agree to the whole deal as soon as she heard it, the way so many other women would, if only to call themselves a Coburn.
He had gone to Haven Communications with a simple request. He wanted to know how he could improve his favorable ratings enough to win his next election. When the Haven sisters told him he needed to get married, he thought that they were kidding. Sure, he had a reputation problem. People see a young, charismatic congressman with a string of girlfriends and they start to ask questions. The money was a problem, too. His family's name and wealth were the two main reasons he had been elected in the first place, but they were also the biggest barriers between him and voters. From the day he was born, he had been American royalty. Showing up all over the internet with supermodels on his arm was hardly a way to relate to anyone, but there was no way he was going to marry someone just for political gain.
Then he'd met Charlotte.
He hadn't known that she was the person they had in mind. He had just heard that she would be Callie's maid of honor. She was, to say the least, unexpected. When Callie had first suggested the idea, he'd assumed she'd try to find the Hillary to his Bill. He wasn't sure he wanted either half of that relationship.
Instead, they had delivered a red head who wore glasses, who was soft spoken and with whom he felt an instant intimacy and understanding. When Callie had proposed the whole marriage of convenience thing, he had balked. After meeting Charlotte, he was intrigued.
She didn't seem to give a damn about his money or his power. He liked that, but was that really enough to justify asking her to spend a year and a half pretending to be his wife? She seemed like a genuinely nice person, someone who didn't need or want the attention of being a public figure. He had expected someone different, a marriage mercenary. Someone who would turn on the charm in public and treat the rest like a business deal, but Charlotte? He could tell right away that she wasn't like that. He just didn't know if that was good or bad.
Jack paced back and forth across the room waiting for Charlotte to arrive. The minuted seemed to drag by, and she couldn't get there soon enough. He hadn't heard from her since that walk along the river, and the question of how she was leaning with regards to the marriage contract was driving him crazy. While passing the head table, he noticed that he and Charlotte had been seated across the room from each other. He picked her placard up and read it.
"Charlotte Crowley," he whispered to himself. "Charlotte Coburn," he repeated in his head. Mrs. Charlotte Coburn. Mr. and Mrs. Jack Coburn. Mr. and Mrs. Jack and Charlotte Coburn. "Charlotte," he said in surprise as she walked into the room.
He quickly found his placard and swapped it with the one next to hers. With that mission accomplished, he headed over to the bar to pretend like he hadn't noticed her entrance.
While trying to ignore Charlotte, Jack had gotten himself embroiled in a long conversation with Callie's aunt about the medicinal properties of grain alcohol. It took him fifteen minutes to extricate himself and head over to Charlotte. Either she was ignoring him too or she hadn't noticed him yet. She was talking with one of Logan's cousins on the other side of the room.
Jack turned and watched Charlotte for a moment. She looked even more beautiful than he had remembered. Her hair seemed lighter, almost strawberry blond in the late afternoon light, and the little freckles on her nose and cheeks almost made her look tan. By the time he reached her, Charlotte had noticed the seating arrangements.
"Looks like we're sitting together," Charlotte said, rolling her eyes and smirking as she held the placards up. "I wonder whose idea that was."
"I'm sure it was Callie and Logan's call," Jack said, "but it is their night, so I guess we should humor them."
"Yeah," Charlotte said, "but the funny thing is, I helped Callie make the seating chart, and you were supposed to be all the way over there." Charlotte pointed out at the harbor. "I had reserved a special buoy with your name on it."
"Why would you do a thing like that?" Jack said. "I guess it was fate."
Charlotte smiled. "Seems like fate had a helping hand," she said.
"No need to dwell on the past," Jack said. "I guess we'll just have to make it work."
"Right," Charlotte said. "Spoken like a true politician."
"I'll try to hide how much that hurt," Jack said. "Just smile and nod, and everything will turn out just fine."
"For better or for worse," Charlotte said.
"For richer or for—" Jack stopped mid-sentence as the bride and groom made their entrance into the room. "You know the rest," he said.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you like me," Charlotte said.
"Now, I wouldn't want you to think that," Jack said. "Word might get around, and my reputation would be ruined."
Charlotte grinned and headed off to greet the bride and groom. Jack hung back and watched the way Charlotte talked and laughed with her friend. He wanted to follow her over there and keep the conversation going. He wanted her to grin at him again. Maybe there was more to this than he had thought.
An hour later, after the cocktail hour and the small talk with Logan's friends and family, Jack took his seat next to Charlotte. She was staring at the enormous lobster on her plate and holding the tiny lobster fork in her hand as she tried to figure out what to do next. "Are you ready for your speech tomorrow night?" he asked.
"This must seem dumb to you, but I'm nervous," Charlotte said. "It's just a lot of people." She looked around the room. There were probably forty people at the rehearsal dinner. There would be hundreds at the wedding.
"Why would that seem dumb? I used to get nervous all the time before big talks, but there's a simple trick to getting over that fear," Jack said. He cut into his steak and took a bite while Charlotte stared at her lobster.
"Oh yeah?" Charlotte asked. "Let me guess, I'm supposed to picture everyone naked."
Jack's eyes darted up and down Charlotte. "Not the worst idea."
"Hey, I didn't say to picture me naked. Besides, that never helps."
"That's a shame," Jack said, "but I was thinking of something else. You just need some practice. Remember to work the crowd one person at a time. Pick someone and make eye contact. That's the key. Conne
ct with them." Jack reached over and flipped the lobster over, twisting the tail and separating it from the rest. "Also, it's ok to use your hands."
"When eating lobster or when talking?"
Jack laughed. "Both I guess."
"I'll see what I can do," Charlotte said. "I've never had a whole lobster before. My parents weren't big seafood people." She laughed as she followed Jack's lead and started to take apart the lobster piece by piece. She took a bite and closed her eyes. "This is incredible. Why aren't you eating this too?"
"My parents were big seafood people. A steak makes for a good change of pace now and then." He liked helping Charlotte broaden her horizons a bit, even if it was only by pulling apart her meal. "Are you really that nervous about speaking?"
"Terrified." Charlotte took another bite of lobster and closed her eyes in bliss.
"You know, when I was a kid, I was afraid of the water. My mother was fine with me staying on solid ground, but my father, well, he had a different idea of what to do. We lived by the ocean, but one of my uncles had a pool. One day, when everyone was in the pool and I was standing off by the side, he picked me up and tossed me in the shallow end, and I swam back to the edge."
"That's terrible."
"It wasn't so bad. My mother nearly knocked his head off, but I was fine."
"Why are you telling me this?" Charlotte asked.
"Sometimes, the only way to get over your fear is to jump right in, but maybe you'd feel better swimming in the shallow end. I didn't always see eye to eye with my dad, but I think he had that one right."
Jack cleared his throat and clinked his fork against the champagne flute to get the room's attention. He pushed his chair out and stood up as the room grew quiet. He smiled across the sea of faces as the last bits of conversation died down and he had everyone's full attention.
"It's traditional for the best man and maid of honor to give speeches on the night of the wedding, but I wanted to share a few quick words with you tonight. Logan Harris has been a good friend of mine for my entire adult life. For those of you who don't know, we were roommates in college, and friends ever since. In all the time I've known him, Logan has never given a damn what another person has thought. He lives life according to his own rules. I always admired his freedom and his courage. Now, I admire him for finding and embracing love.
"Tomorrow, I'll give the sappy version of this speech, but tonight, I wanted to congratulate Callie on doing the impossible. You've gotten Logan to grow up, and you've helped him become the man we all knew he could be. I think of all the trouble we got in together…" Jack trailed off and looked across the room. "Maybe it would be better if I left that speech for after the two of you get married."
The crowd laughed.
"Logan, you've been a great friend over the years, and I know you'll be a wonderful husband. Callie, you picked a good man. He's loyal and determined, and, don't tell anyone I said this, but he's not so hard on the eyes. Logan and Callie, I'm proud to call myself your friend, and I look forward to witnessing your happiness in the years and decades to come."
As Jack finished his speech, he turned and winked at Charlotte.
"And now for a few words from the maid of honor. Ladies and gentlemen, Charlotte Crowley."
Jack walked over to Charlotte and handed her the microphone. She placed her hand over the microphone and glared at him. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Teaching you how to swim," he said. "Don't worry, you'll be fine."
Jack sat down next to Charlotte and rested his cheek against his palm as he turned to watch. The room grew quiet as everyone waited for her to stand. She took a deep breath and held it for a moment before pushing herself up.
"Hi, I'm Charlotte," she blurted out. She turned her attention to Callie. "I've been Callie's friend and roommate for the past five years. I didn't prepare anything for tonight, so I'll try to keep this short."
Jack sat back and watched her. Her hand trembled slightly as she held the microphone, and he could hear the hesitation in her voice. He'd been confident that helping Charlotte get her nervousness out of her system before the wedding was the right move, but as he waited for her to continue, he wondered if he hadn't made a big mistake in thrusting her into the spotlight. Come on, Charlotte, he thought, I know you can do this.
"Like Jack, I'm just honored to be part of Logan and Callie's celebration of love." Charlotte looked at Jack as if to ask what to say next, then she took a step back, looked around and froze.
She stood there for a while, looking from person to person in the crowd like she was trying to follow Jack's advice. Finally, after a long pause, Charlotte raised her glass. "I know Jack beat me to the punch, but I don't think you can celebrate love enough, so here's to Callie and Logan, may you spend the rest of your lives as happy as you are tonight."
Jack held up his glass to toast with Charlotte, and she turned to glare at him.
"You on the other hand," she whispered, "I'll deal with you later."
After the dinner ended, and everyone got up to talk and drink and enjoy the night, Jack slipped, hoping out to avoid Charlotte's wrath. Instead, he simply gave her an opportunity to corner him. Charlotte charged outside, heels clacking hard against the deck.
"What the hell were you thinking back there?" she asked. Her nostrils flared and her eyes seemed to glow as she stared at him. Jack swore he could see steam rising from her ears.
"If you decide you're on board for this marriage arrangement, you'll be in the spotlight for the entire time. You'll have to give interviews, talk to reporters, roll with the punches. I'm just giving you an idea of what you're in for. I don't know what Callie told you, but it's not some cakewalk."
"That was humiliating. I don't even know what I said. What made you think my best friend's rehearsal dinner would be a good time to test me?"
"I wanted to help you get over your fear, that's all. I thought if you could see it wasn't a big deal, you wouldn't get so nervous."
"Well, that didn't work. Now I'm doubly screwed tomorrow night."
"How about this? Just talk to Callie and Logan. Look directly at them and talk to them. You're telling them why you're honored to be part of their ceremony. Let them know, and the rest will take care of itself. In life, there are people who matter, and there's everybody else. Don't worry about everybody else. You were great, by the way, short and sweet and to the point. You did absolutely fine. Everyone loved it."
"You have no idea what everyone else thought."
"Fine, I loved it. Am I allowed to tell you that? You were great. I put you in a tough spot and you were graceful about it. Take the compliment."
"You can't just do that to me, you know," Charlotte said. "I felt like I was going to puke."
"Do you want to know the first rule about getting through public events when you're not sure what to say?" Jack asked.
"Don't puke?"
"Really that rule applies to pretty much everything." Jack said. He held up his glass. "I was thinking of a drink. It can be wine or scotch or anything, really. If you're completely flustered and need a moment, take a slow sip, and buy yourself a few seconds. Always carry a drink. Never finish it. Getting tipsy is the last thing you need. I'm sorry if I put you in a tough spot. I'll do better next time."
"You better," Charlotte said. She shook her head and walked away, leaving Jack alone with his thoughts. He rested his weight against the railing and looked out over the water. He still didn't know what to think of her. She didn't care about impressing him. That was for sure. For all his life, all anyone around him cared about was making a good impression and pretending to be important. Everyone was always trying to be something they weren't. By comparison, Charlotte was simply, beautifully honest. He just had no idea if someone like her would agree to be with him.
Chapter 4
Through the window, Charlotte could see the entire back lawn sloping down toward the water's edge. The early afternoon sun glinted off the water. Off to the left of the house, a large wh
ite tent stood waiting for the reception. Workers were setting up the final chairs and arranging flowers along the length of the aisle. The heat had broken in the night, and a cool breeze wafted through the open window.
"Charlotte, a hand?" Callie called.
Charlotte turned to see her friend standing behind a giant bloom of white. It hardly felt right to call it a dress. It was a full ball gown, and it looked like something out of a movie, like Callie was Cinderella and the whole world was her ball. It was the kind of dress Callie had been waiting her whole life to wear.
Charlotte couldn't imagine ever slipping into something like that. It just seemed so over the top. Maybe it was because whenever she imagined her own wedding, she thought a lot less about the setting and a lot more about the man who would be standing across from her.
For as long as she could remember, Charlotte had loved reading stories about improbable, seemingly impossible love: Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester, Emma Woodhouse and Mr. Knightley. When she imagined her own wedding, she had always thought about the look in the eye of the groom as he said "I do." The picture was so clear in her mind that she could see it as she stared across the room at Callie in her gown. It was always the same. In her dream of a wedding, the groom would flash Charlotte a knowing smile as if to say, "See, we made it after all, and we'll make it from here on through." That look was all Charlotte needed in her own wedding. The rest of it didn't really matter.
Charlotte didn't think Jack was capable of the look. Sure, he could probably give a conspiratorial smile with the best of them, but considering how he'd described himself she doubted that he'd ever feel a burning passion for her. She doubted he'd ever make her melt or swoon or feel like the only woman in the world. And that's why she absolutely, positively could not marry him, even as a business proposal. She didn't love him, and she didn't see any possibility of ever loving him. She couldn't stand to have a wedding without the groom from her dream.
